An April to Remember
by stargirl0123
Summary: Fred and George get up to a little April Fool's mayhem in their Seventh Year.
1. Strange Things

A/N: My first attempt at humor, so at the end, reviews would be appreciated.

**Strange Things are Afoot in the Second-Floor Toilet**

"Myrtle!"

"Quick! Hide it!"

"Lock it from the inside, get out over the top!" Fred and George Weasley dropped down in front of Harry.

"Ah, Harry. What…what are you doing here?" George asked.

"I could ask you the same question," Harry said. "_I'm_ trying to apologize to Myrtle for not visiting more often. Harry plastered on an apologetic face that was so obviously sarcastic it made the twins laugh.

"Oh, dear Harry, so thoughtful," Fred mimicked in a girl's voice.

"Well, I certainly know that you two aren't here to visit a hormonal girl who's been dead for fifty years," Harry replied.

"I heard that!" shrieked a voice from the end stall. The three boys ignored it.

"Harry, as our financial backer, you have the VIP privilege to witness, first-hand, our scheme," said George proudly.

"Er…do I want to see it?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes. It'll be a right hoot when we're done," Fred said with an evil grin. "George, show Harry in." George slithered under the door to the same stall Harry, Ron, and Hermione had used to concoct the Polyjuice Potion three years previously. George swung open the door with the attitude of someone about to unveil a secret. Fred ushered Harry in and locked the door behind them.

On the toilet seat, just like its predecessor, the Polyjuice Potion, sat another cauldronful of potion. But this stuff had a pearly kind of silvery sheen, an improvement from the mud-like Polyjuice Potion. Its thick steam spiraled up to the high ceiling, and smelled like…like…a flowery scent he thought he might have smelled at the Burrow.

"Like it, Harry?" Fred asked, interrupting Harry's train of thought.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's a love potion, Amortentia!" they exclaimed together.

"Isn't that banned? I don't need any more trouble," Harry said.

"Of course it's banned!" said Fred.

"That's why we're doing this!" said George.

"Doing what, exactly?" asked an apprehensive Harry.

"Spiking the Professors' morning juice!" they replied together.

"What'll it do to them?" Harry wondered, apprehension turning to fascination.

"Make them fall head-over-heals in love with the very first person they see," said George. "Which of course…"

"…will be one another," Fred finished.

"You two are insane," Harry said, grinning.

"Yes, Harry, we are," George replied. "And all you have to do is watch the staff table tomorrow."

"How are you going to pull this off?" Harry asked.

"Nobody said you had to be close to the person whose drink you're spiking to spike their drink," George said.

"Yeah, we've done this to ickle Ronniekins about a million times before," was Fred's answer.

"How?" asked an engrossed Harry.

"You simply need to get close to the source of food preparation," came from George.

"Like…the kitchens?" asked Harry.

"Actually, Harry, we thought you'd get it faster than that!" exclaimed Fred. "Yes, of course the kitchens!"

"Those cute little house-elves will do anything for you," George said.

"But surely not allow you to put a love potion in all of the Professors' drinks!" said Harry incredulously.

"Nah, of course not!" cried Fred. "That's why we're taking pains to disguise it as Pepper-Up Potion. Apparently, Pomfrey goes there all the time to secretly give Pepper-Up to various students. She did it to George once."

"I wasn't feeling blue, she did that on purpose, just for revenge," said George.

"And only because you switched all the labels in the Hospital Wing. Honestly!" said Fred, winking to Harry.

"I know!" cried George obliviously. "Anyway, Harry, the show goes on tomorrow at breakfast. But one thing," he added as Harry turned to leave.

"Don't tell Hermione," they said.

A/N: Yeah, I know, Harry didn't see Amortentia until HBP, and this is set in OoTP. But it fit the story lines. Just go along with it for now. I got the idea for the title from an 80's movie called "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure". Hilarious, rent it on a rainy day. And review!


	2. One Fine April Morning

**One Fine April Morning…**

True to his word, Harry told only Ron about what Fred and George were up to. They both agreed that, if she knew, Hermione might do something drastic, like declare a stake-out on the kitchens.

So Hermione was as ignorant as any other student that morning when Fred and George slipped in beside them at the Gryffindor table.

"Done it!" they crowed. Harry and Ron snorted into their bowls of cereal.

"Done what?" Hermione asked suspiciously, her face automatically moving into that I-don't-know-what-you're-up-to-but-I'm-going-to-find-out-and-when-I-do-there-won't-be-a-safe-place-inside-or-outside-of-Hogwarts look that Harry and Ron knew so well.

"Relax, Hermy," George said casually, perhaps even conversationally.

"You don't need to know," Fred said. "All you have to do is watch the Staff Table."

"For what, exploding sausages?" Hermione shot back.

"No, you're off by a lot, Hermione," George replied. "For once in your life!"

"But really, thanks for the great idea," Fred said, whipping out the homework organizer Harry had conveniently tossed away one night, straight into Fred's waiting arms. Hermione noticed too.

"Harry, is that your organizer?" she asked.

"Yup," said George. "Harry was tossing it. We rescued it from a fiery demise." Hermione glared at Harry over her toast. "Looks like we can pencil exploding sausages in sometime in May."

"May 25th – _exploding sausages_," said Fred as he wrote it down. "Just remember, boys…"

"A meatless morning May keeps Pomfrey away!" Fred and George both cried. Hermione simply looked furious at all four of them.

"Look! Look! It's starting!" Fred said, pushing Hermione's face into her own porridge to get a better look.

"McGonagall's drinking!" whispered Ron.

"Drinking what?" Hermione asked. The four boys shushed her. Professor McGonagall was staring down at the Slytherin table, where there seemed to be some kind of commotion. And on the way, her eye caught none other than…

"Dumbledore!" the boys whispered, falling into silent hysterics.

"Wait!" Harry gasped. "It isn't over!" As Professor McGonagall's face slid into a vacant, dream-like stare directed at him, Professor Dumbledore seemed to notice. He took a sip of his pumpkin juice and looked around the table to see if anyone else was like this. Along the way, he locked eyes with…

"Professor Sprout!" crowed the boys. Even Hermione seemed to have given up the punishment vein, and was also looking fascinated now. Dumbledore sent a little wave Professor Sprout's way, and their part of the table collapsed in giggles.

Professor Binns, the dreary History of Magic teacher, and the only teacher who was a ghost, noticed, and sent a look Professor McGonagall's way. His face instantly turned to the same vacant expression that McGonagall wore. About half the students had now noticed that something strange was going on at the Staff Table.

"Oh, this is too good!" cried Fred. "Binns is in love with McGonagall, who's in love with Dumbledore, who's in love with Sprout, who loves him back!"

Hermione gasped. They all turned to her. "Umbridge is drinking!" she crowed, not even bothering to keep her ecstatic voice down. Over three quarters of the students were watching now. But Umbridge had eyes only for the Slytherin table. Nobody was trying to calm them down, except…

"I want to remember this day, this very special April Fools Day, forever and ever. Ron, never let me forget this. Because this is the historical day when the evil Umbridge fell for none other than Professor Severus Snape!" said Harry.

"Today," Fred said, "should be a very interesting day. Let's see if anyone else drank it!" And the five hurried off to separate lessons, two to Charms, one to Arithmancy, and two to Divination.

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A/N: I know that on Mondays (and this is a Monday), Harry, Ron, and Hermione have History of Magic first. I tweaked the schedule to fit my story. As always, just go along with it! And review!


	3. Not Gazing Into a Crystal Ball

**Not Gazing Into a Crystal Ball**

Harry and Ron ascended the ladder into the infamous Divination room. The clarity of the air flabbergasted them, and they whipped their heads around, looking towards Professor Trelawney's favored armchair.

"Where's the old fraud got to?" Ron whispered, in case she was lurking behind them.

"Dunno," replied Harry. "Just because she's on Probation doesn't mean that she has to stop teaching." Parvati gasped.

"Look!" she half cried, half whispered. Professor Trelawney seemed to be in a store room above the classroom, gazing out of a window. Lavender Brown climbed up to remind her that there were twenty students below her.

"Professor!" Lavender called. "Professor…what are you staring at?" Parvati climbed up to join her.

"Hagrid is a fine teacher, don't you think?" Trelawney sighed.

"Professor, no!" Parvati cried, trying to break Trelawney's grip on the windowsill. "Professor, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, dear. Students aren't allowed in my storerooms," she said brusquely to the girls who were tying to interfere with her mad obsession.

Torn between obeying and persuading, Lavender and Parvati tried one more time to pull their dear professor from the window. When she refused to budge, they returned to the classroom with the air of a pair of deflated balloons.

"Free class!" called Seamus Finnigan.

"Anyone else finish McGonagall's essay?" asked Dean. Murmurs of disagreement abounded, Harry and Ron included. But, as Ron put it, "Hermione'll just give us the answers anyway, right?" So they spent the class discussing Trelawney's newfound love.

"Hagrid? But I don't think he saw her back, so it's just a one way obsession," said Ron.

"Yeah, Hagrid never drinks at breakfast," replied Harry. "Good thing, or we might have had some work to do."

"How long do you think this stuff lasts?" Ron asked.

"Fred and George wouldn't make it permanent…would they?" Harry said.

"I don't think so, because they've been talking about leaving."

"I might be right behind them."

"Hey, look! The bat's coming down from her cave." Surely enough, Trelawney was descending from the storeroom.

"I must see if the heavens declare this romance to be," she said in that misty, un-earthly voice.

"Well, if he does not agree, I do not foresee this affair occurring, ah me!" whispered Ron. He and Harry collapsed in silent giggles, not avoiding Trelawney's notice.

"Fine. If my room is to be disrupted by the vibes of the unseeing, then you all can see what you make of it!" she said. A collective groan arose from the class, except from Parvati and Lavender, who squealed and moved into their usual seats on either side of her.

"I see, in their future…the Grim!" Harry announced dramatically.

"Who doesn't?" asked Ron. "And I see a load of fog. Possibly a fog-lit date?"

"Yeah. They could take a midnight stroll through a graveyard!" laughed Harry.

"For a homework assignment, I would like your views on why the minds of some are so _hopelessly and mundanely clouded_," Trelawney announced. "You may go."

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione outside of Umbridge's classroom. Frequently interrupting one another, Harry and Ron told Hermione about Trelawney and Hagrid.

"Well, Professor Vector seemed unharmed," she said. "But then some Slytherin bewitched a stack of books to fly at my head, and I went to the Hospital Wing."

"Oh, and who has Pomfrey fallen for?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Professor Flitwick. They're over there giggling at each other. I guess she must have given him some Pumpkin Juice that Fred and George got at," Hermione answered.

"Why was he even in the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked.

"He said he toppled off his stack of books again and broke his wrist," Hermione replied. "You know, Fred and George are in Charms right now. I'd bet anything that they had a hand in that."

"How could they? He toppled off his books!" Ron said.

"I…" Hermione started, but she was cut off by the opening of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom door.

"This should make for a very interesting lesson," Harry said.

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A/N: As always, please do review, because I will eventually return the favor!


	4. Defense Against the Dark Arts

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to one of my loyal readers, FredWeasleysGF.

**Defense Against the Dark Arts**

The Gryffindors filed patiently into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulling out their copies of Defensive Magical Theory and stowing their wands in their bags. They sat glumly, waiting for the expected "Good afternoon, class." But it never came. Instead, Umbridge let out her high-pitched, girly giggle. Harry looked around, and spied Umbridge in a corner of the classroom, interrogating Snape.

"So, did I hear you wanted my post?" she asked, in what she must have thought was a flirtatious tone.

"Well, yes," Snape conceded, looking increasingly uncomfortable under the rapt attention of the Fifth Years, and evidently trying to answer Umbridge's questions in as few words as possible. But rather than turning Umbridge off, this seemed to turn her on.

"Really, you must tell me what you know. I'm just so inexperienced," she sighed, looking at Snape out of the corner of her eye. He seemed unaffected, so she continued, "Or, it would be lovely to have you teach a class."

Harry watched the coming scene with anticipation. Snape was torn between his desire to teach a Defense Against the Dark Arts class and his desire to stay as far away from Umbridge as possible. Oddly enough, Harry felt sympathy for Snape's predicament, as he understood Snape's feelings. But his enjoyment at seeing Snape squirm out-weighed his momentary sympathy.

"I would be happy to help, but…but…I have many classes at the same times as yours," he finished triumphantly, evidently feeling he has escaped the situation. Harry knew that Snape should know better.

"But surely not all your classes," Umbridge replied, sliding a little closer. "You simply must find time during one of your free periods. I insist."

"But I wouldn't even know what to teach," Snape countered. Hermione, sitting next to Harry, snorted in disbelief.

"Oh, I'm sure that many could benefit from your fascinating experiences."

"Like being a Death Eater?" Ron hissed under his breath.

"But would Professor Dumbledore think this necessary?" Snape asked, playing his last defensive card.

"I'm sure he wouldn't object," Umbridge said. "It might even quench your thirst for the post. Let's see…" she waddled to her desk and sifted through the papers collected on top. Her hand emerged clutching a horrid furry pink organizer. Hermione's face was turning purple with the effort of preventing herself from bursting out in laughter. "I have an unplanned lesson for these students next Monday."

"Yeah, if unplanned means reading the next chapter in Defensive Magical Theory," Harry said scathingly, barely attempting to keep him voice down. Luckily, Snape was too preoccupied with the fluffy organizer to notice.

"Come to my office tonight, we'll see what we can plan," Umbridge said, grinning to show her pointed little teeth.

"Umm…yes…sure…if I finish the Second Year's Sleeping Draught essays, and they're so awful that I'm sure they'll take me all night," Snape said, coming up with the easiest excuse available.

"Oh, well, I need to finish the Fourth Year's essays on applying defensive magic….Maybe we could do them together?" Umbridge asked hopefully.

"No…no, I prefer to work alone," Snape replied, backing out of the classroom as quickly as possible. The door swung halfway shut behind him.

"Well, if you change you mind…" Umbridge called half-heartedly. It was no use. At Snape's speed, and Harry had no doubt he had increased it once out of Umbridge's domain, he was probably half way to the dungeons by now. Umbridge slumped a tiny bit, barely enough to be perceived, as she was so short. But the whole class, all of whom were watching intently, caught this. She seemed to steel herself, and marched back to her desk and settled herself, adjusting the little black velvet bow that was always perched atop her head. And then she seemed to notice their attentions. "Well, what are you staring at?" she snapped. "Go on to Chapter 38 of Defensive Magical Theory. Of course, there will be no need to talk."

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A/N: Please read and review! I love in-depth reviewers!


	5. The Final Straw

A/N: All right. This is a short chappie, only written to clear some things up, and explain what's going to happen in the next chapter. Enjoy, and review at the end!

**The Final Straw**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still laughing about Umbridge's obsession when Fred and George dropped their bags beside them and tucked into the chicken pot pie dinner.

"Enjoying the results of our labor?" George asked. "It took us three months to brew that potion."

"Yeah, we had to keep using Skiving Snackboxes to get out of class to add the ingredients," Fred added.

"Hermione, there's no use reporting us," George said as Hermione made a move to get up. "We planned for this. Right now, all the teachers are drinking a bit of Forgetfulness Draught that takes effect in about six hours."

"Shame they won't remember anything – we might have gotten rid of both Umbridge and Snape in one fell swoop," Ron said dejectedly.

"Fear not, little brother," Fred said. "We're kicking it up a notch after supper"

"How?" Harry asked.

"With these," George said, tossing a bundle of letters upon the table between them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all leaned in closer to see what they were.

"A stack of love letters?" Hermione asked. Fred and George conceded that they were.

"Here's one supposedly from Dumbledore to McGonagall…why are there two of those?" Harry asked, having picked up the stack.

"Ah – one's to drop in front of Sprout," George answered him.

" i My passion for you burns with the intensity of a thousand suns/i " Hermione had seized one of the Dumbledore – McGonagall letters and was now reading from it. "How did you come up with this rubbish?"

"Oh, George wrote that, and it's duplicate," Fred answered.

"Harry, let me see!" Ron was pulling, or attempting to pull, the letters out of Harry's hands.

"Fine, but read the names out loud," Harry said.

"Gladly," Ron replied. "Let's see…the other Dumbledore – McGonagall one, a Flitwick – Pomfrey one…"

"So you did have something to do with sending Professor Flitwick to the Hospital Wing!" Hermione interjected.

"…one from McGonagall to Binns?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Wow, you two are really subtle," Harry added.

"…a Trelawney to Hagrid…"

"That poor, poor man," Fred said.

"…a Winky to i Peeves /i ?"

"You're not taking advantage of that poor House – Elf, are you?" Hermione asked. "She had enough to deal with last year, with those heartless Crouches…"

"Wait, are you saying that Winky the House – Elf has fallen in love with Peeves the Poltergeist?" Harry asked.

"Well, actually…" Fred started.

"…it's Peeves who's in love with Winky. That poor elf is so drunk sometimes, she can't remember…" George said, only to be interrupted.

"Winky!" Hermione cried and rushed off to the kitchens.

"What's with her?" George asked.

"Oh, she's been working on 'building Winky's self-esteem'. I suppose she's afraid this might tear it down," Harry answered.

"You know, she looks rather hot with that breeze she's making pushing her robes back," Fred said, as Hermione disappeared into the Entrance Hall.

"Shut up, mate. You're angering ickle Ronniekins," George reprimanded. Ron was indeed turning the fiercest shade of purple Harry had ever seen.

"You…I…can't…mine," Ron sputtered. The twins just laughed.

"Hey, there's still one more letter," Harry said in an effort to distract the Weasleys from their previous conversation.

"Of course," Fred said. "We absolutely had to write this one. Especially since neither of them will remember anything come tomorrow morning.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked of the envelope Harry had picked up.

"From Snape. To Umbridge."


	6. Many Broken Hearts Make a Heavy Load

**Many Broken Hearts Make a Heavy Load**

"Dumbledore!"

"Here it goes," Fred said.

"I can't believe you would ever write a love note to i her /i !" Professor Sprout stood at the top of the marble stairs, pointing a trembling finger at Professor McGonagall, who had evidently bumped into Dumbledore, who had been coming from the kitchens.

"I assure you, Pomona, I did no such thing!" he cried.

"Well, that's just what I wanted to talk to you about…" Minerva started. But she was cut off by the rantings of Pomona Sprout.

"I hat you, Minerva McGonagall, you underhanded little..." Thankfully, she was quietted by the arrival of Madame Hooch.

"Settle down, now, Pomona," she started. "Why don't we head up to the Hospital Wing, so Madame Pomfrey can give you a Calming Draft?" she attempted to steer Professor Sprout away, but instead of soothing her, the Flying Instructor's words simply infuriated the Herbology Professor.

"You're on i her /i side, aren't you, Rolanda? You've never liked me, you'd side with i her /i over me any day…" From the group of students watching the scene avidly at the doors of the Great Hall, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott broke lose and hurried up to cart their Head of House off to the Hospital Wing. This time, Professor Sprout did not protest at being led off. She simply continued to yell over her shoulder. "I never liked any of you, you traitors! Never did I think in all my years at Hogwarts that…" The rest was muffled as the two Hufflepuff prefects led Professor Sprout further and further away.

Minerva McGonagall looked blank for a moment, then burst into tears. The students looked shocked to see the stern Deputy Headmistress break down so easily. Madame Hooch hurried down the rest of the steps and ran towards her.

"Hermione, some help, please?" she asked. Hermione, having returned from the kitchens once Dumbledore showed up, hurried forward and attempted to soothe the Transfiguration teacher.

"Come on, dear. Let's go to the kitchens and get you a nice cup of tea," Madame Hooch said, she and Hermione leading Professor McGonagall towards the kitchen corridor. "Is everything sorted out down there?" she asked Dumbledore. He replied that it was.

"I'm sorry that I'm the source of all the trouble in this castle," Professor McGonagall sobbed. "I'll just go pack my bags, since it's obvious that nobody wants me here." She attempted to break free of Madame Hooch and Hermione's grasp, but they steered her back towards the kitchens.

"No, you don't mean that, Professor," Hermione said. "All you need is a nice cup of tea." As they helped Professor McGonagall down the stairs, Snape, with Umbridge on his heels, emerged from the dungeons.

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" he roared, tossing the envelope Harry had held earlier at Dumbledore's feet.

"I am quite as lost as you, Severus," Dumbledore answered. "I have been in the kitchens, attempting to calm the House-Elf Winky, you have just missed a spectacle between Professors Sprout and McGonagall, and, next thing you know, Sybill Trelawney will come bursting through here screaming about something or other too…"

"I must go deliver this!" Trelawney leaped down the steps in two's and three's and bounded out the door, all the while triumphantly waving the envelope Fred and George had planted for her.

"…So really, I must say that it's up to you to work at your own love life." Snape looked shocked. The scene being over, the students filed away to their respective Common Rooms. Only Dumbledore and Harry remained in the Entrance Hall.

"Professor…are you alright?"

"Never get a woman angry, Harry. Even if you have absolutely no idea what you've done wrong."

"Perhaps it would be a good idea to go and visit the Hospital Wing and the kitchens, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry, it would." Dumbledore headed up the marble staircase, with Harry following.

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A/N: Please review. I return the favor, and I love hearing your thoughts!


	7. The Kitchens

To all my faithful readers (and you know I love you!), I apologize for the HUGE delay. Take it up with the marching band director (he kicks our butts but he helps us win All-States Championships!) and all my teachers (those crazy seminar teachers!). Perhaps as some compensation, this chapter is slightly longer than the previous ones.

**The Kitchens**

"Calm down, Pomona. Drink this," Madame Pomfrey said.

"Really, Professor, this will make you feel much better." Hannah tried to get Professor Sprout to drink by holding the cup up for her, but she only turned her head away.

"That cup of rubbish can not possibly cheer me up," she said.

"Well, Pomona, you seem to have hand-grown over half of this 'rubbish', you called it," Madame Pomfrey retorted.

"Nothing will cheer me up, I tell you. Nothing except-" and then she saw Dumbledore and Harry standing in the door. Contrary to what she had just been about to say, she turned her head away and jutted her chin out defiantly.

"Pomona…," Dumbledore started, but gave up for lack of expressive words.

"There's nothing you could possibly say," she said icily. Harry was amazed that she could even speak to Dumbledore – normally Hermione was so outraged at Ron that they couldn't speak to each other without a shouting match ensuing. "Where's Minerva?" she asked sarcastically. _Ouch_, thought Harry.

"Down in the kitchens, considerably shaken by the quarrel you two had," Dumbledore responded calmly.

"Good. I hope she resigns after this," Professor Sprout said.

"Well, I do hope you know that she holds you in high regard as one of her colleagues…or she did."

"Are you just saying that to reconcile us?" Professor Sprout asked suspiciously.

"No. But I can't have discord among my staff, Pomona. No matter what goes on in personal lives, it simply shouldn't affect what goes on during the day. I'm sorry," Dumbledore said. To Madame Pomfrey and Ernie and Hannah, he said, "Do make sure she drinks that." A little more softly he added, "A dose of forgetfulness potion wouldn't be off, either." They nodded in agreement. "Goodbye, Pomona. I'll be back later to check on you."

And on that note, he and Harry left the Hospital Wing. Harry took larger steps so that he could end up walking next to Dumbledore.

"Uh…Professor?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said.

"Wasn't that a little…harsh?" Harry asked.

"I do not know what you mean by the word 'harsh', Harry," Dumbledore said. He had that kind of effect on teens; the kind of effect where you feel that whatever you say will come out sounding horribly stupid.

"I mean…well, wasn't that…weren't you a little, er…blunt? With Professor Sprout?" Harry asked haltingly.

"And I suppose you think I don't know what the Misters Weasley have done to my staff today." Harry turned white, but kept walking. _How does he know these things?_ he thought. "That's why the Twidaleus Potion has been invented. A magical lesson for you, Harry; when you begin teaching, you learn that taking a vile potion in the mornings is better than ending up a joke to your students. Because, then, none of them would take me seriously anymore." The Professor was wearing buckled boots, baggy Arabian-style pants, a vest with a pocket watch, a sweeping violet cloak, and a crooked pointed hat. His beard was tucked into his belt. _Never mind that he looks like a cross between a wizard, and English gentleman, and an Arabian,_ Harry's subconscious voice said.

"But, Professor…the…the little…_wave_, this morning!" Harry said.

"And I hope that I have entertained you, the three Misters Weasley, and Ms. Granger sufficiently for the day. You know that Misters Fred and George will have to answer for this. However, you may tell them that their punishment will be lessened, because anybody who can trick Dolores Umbridge has a stroke of genius." Harry, subdued at the knowledge of Dumbledore's omniscience, remained silent until reaching the painting of a bowl of fruit that was the hidden entrance to the kitchens. The old Professor tickled the pear to let them in. Harry shifted uneasily until he spotted Hermione, and then made a beeline straight for her. She was trying to soothe Professor McGonagall's frayed nerves.

Unlike Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall wasn't ranting or being difficult at all. In fact, she was silent, simply staring into the depths of a mug of tea. Madame Hooch and Hermione sat quietly on either side of her. When Hermione saw Harry, she gave Professor McGonagall one last soothing back rub, then dragged Harry over into the corner to discuss something. Madame Hooch softly informed Professor McGonagall of Dumbledore's arrival, and then relinquished her seat to him.

Dumbledore sat there for a moment, still lost for words, thought Harry. Hermione saw the glint of light on a tear as it fell into the teacup. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall exploded.

"Honestly, I'm worse than a student," she moaned. "Caught up in this silly little love triangle – when you and I know that we use Twidaleus every day!"

"It's not as if any of this is your fault, Minerva." Dumbledore seemed to have regained his voice.

"But I feel like it is. I can't blame Pomona, so I want to blame myself. How childish!"

"You could blame the Misters Weasley. Although you must agree that it was an admirable plot if they could trick Dolores."

She laughed. "Yes, I suppose so!"

"Are you alright now?" Dumbledore asked concernedly.

"I think so. I had some chocolate. Is there any chance that I could speak to Pomona?"

"Now might not be the best time. Am I right in assuming that the potion will wear off by tomorrow?" It was the first time in the discussion that Dumbledore had addressed either Harry or Hermione. Hermione nodded slowly. "Then I would try tomorrow – Pomona will be much better by then, and if I know the Weasley twins, she won't remember a thing."

"Thank you, Albus. You know that I value your advice," Professor McGonagall replied. Harry felt the sudden urge to leave the two Professors alone. Hermione must have felt it too, for they glanced at one another and hurried to the portrait hole. The portrait of the fruit bowl swung shut on the two Professors, locked in a sincere embrace and a warm kiss.

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Yes, I know I'm a shameless AD/MM person. And I have a special soft spot for Minnie. My friends were reading this on the fieldtrip yesterday (It was supposed to be an educational fieldtrip to see an exhibit on Darwin, but none of us got much out of it), and they've pronounced me creepy. Well, at least I don't write stories about Hermione, Fred and George trapped in a broom closet and kissing… (Spiral-fire, I'm talking about you!)


	8. Loose Ends

A/N: I apologize for the long wait. The semester just ended, and I had a ton of stuff to do. So, here's the last chapter, finally. I'm sorry if this isn't very exciting, but the chapter is called "Loose Ends" because it's supposed to tie up all the loose ends in my story.

**Loose Ends**

Long after the most studious Gryffindor had left for his bed, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George remained in the Common Room, laughing. Earlier in the evening, Fred and George were constantly being interrupted by Gryffindors high-fiving them and calling them geniuses. Once all the other students had left, Fred and George informed the Trio of their escapades.

In their first class, Charms, they had felt the need for more drama, so they had knocked Flitwick off of his tower of books, giving him the "chance" to go to the Hospital Wing ("I knew it!" Hermione cried), and leading to the current Flitwick - Pomfrey romance.

They had then had a break period, and dinner. During the afternoon, they had had a dosage of Double Potions. Harry was amused to know that Umbridge had been stalking Snape, who was thoroughly unnerved by the unwanted affection. They had then left for Muggle Studies, which had bored them because of its lack of action. However, the fight after supper had made up for sitting through a boring class period.

The twins laughed when Harry, Ron, and Hermione filled them in on the details of their day. They concluded that this was the best prank they had ever pulled, but the grins were wiped off their faces when Harry informed them that Dumbledore, thanks to the Twidaleus Potion, was on to them. They managed to laugh it off, but it was evident that they had been shocked by the news.

Soon Hermione, complaining of the exam in Charms the next afternoon, left for her bed. A few minutes later, the Weasleys and Harry left for bed too. Overall, they concluded, taking the punishment for the days' activities was well worth it.

True to Dumbledore's word, Fred and George were sent to Madame Pomfrey to work in the Hospital Wing for two hours every night for a month. Not having learned anything from the Amortentia Experience, as Harry and Ron called it, the twins spent this time placing itching powder in all the sheets in the Hospital Wing linen closet, mixing up all of Madame Pomfrey's dried plants, and bewitching the curtains to weave together so that Madame Pomfrey could not open them. Needless to say, the twins walked around with smoking ears for weeks as a result of Madame Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion "cures".

Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped without a serious punishment, other than the fact that they, like Fred and George, were no longer allowed in the kitchens. This greatly dismayed Hermione, for she believed that this meant she could no longer "help" Winky. However, Dumbledore allowed her to continue with this in an empty classroom.

Most of the teachers forgot, thanks to the Forgetfulness Potion that Fred and George put in all the drinks and food being sent up to the Professors' table the next morning. But Harry could tell that, thanks to Twidaleus, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were not affected. He could tell that they, as well as the students, laughed whenever Snape and Umbridge entered the same room, although neither Snape nor Umbridge was quite sure why. Harry noticed that Professor McGonagall was unusually stiff around Professor Binns, and that Professor Dumbledore was less polite to Professor Sprout than before, but she didn't notice at all. And the one thing that was clear to Harry, although no other students were aware, was that all the subtle glances and the good moods that they were both in must mean that something irreversible had occurred between Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.

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A/N: I'm sorry, but that's the end. I hope you enjoyed "An April to Remember". Please review!

Kathryn


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